


Bondage

by Emma_Trevelyan



Series: Dragon Age: Foursome [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Alistair's POV, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Foursome, Light Chastity Play, M/M, Mild BDSM, Oral Sex, Partner Swapping, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Trevelyan/pseuds/Emma_Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair wants to continue their games, and Cullen has a thing or two to show him. Emma and Lynn happily play along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bondage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [felandaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felandaris/gifts).



Alistair had never really understood the value of sexual bondage until he saw Cullen’s skillful work at play. The sight of the black ropes crisscrossing Emma’s milk-and-honey skin was a powerful effect; enough to make his mouth water. The equally black silk across her eyes and the thick, leather collar around her long throat just made it _filthy…_ and he liked it.

He held the chain in his hands, wrapped around his knuckles; he kept the chain _just_ too short, enough slack he wasn’t putting pressure on anything vital, but not enough she could fully relax. Her ragged, frantic breathing ghosted over his hip; his cock jumped in his breeches when her tongue darted out to wet those full lips of hers. Cullen’s big hand was carding through her long, platinum hair; when she leaned into the touch, Alistair jerked on the chain. Her attention immediately went back to him. He may have been a king, a leader of an entire nation, but he’d never felt so singularly… _powerful._

The long keening moan from the sofa drew his attention, and he quirked his brow at his wife. While the position she was tied in was nice—each wrist secured to each ankle, leaving her spread for him—he had to admire the tiny gold clamps on her nipples, connected with a thin chain. They turned the usually-pink nubs into dark purple pinpoints of sensation, and Alistair wanted her so badly. But the anticipation was clearly building in her, making her visibly wet. He made brief eye contact with Lynn, licking his lips greedily when he thought of the things he wanted to do to her. But Cullen’s sharp voice cut through his arousal.

“Lynn,” he sighed, just a note of playful disapproval under the obvious, dark arousal. “We will _get_ to you.”

Lynn’s eyes darkened and her arousal flared; Alistair could almost smell it from across the room. But Emma leaning against his thigh for purchase ripped him back to himself. He jerked on the chain once more, reveling in the tiny sigh of pleasure that escaped her. Cullen’s amber eyes darkened further when he tangled his fingers in her hair.

“Remove Alistair’s breeches, angel,” he growled, somehow making the affectionate pet name sound downright vulgar. He tugged on the wrists bound behind her back, and leaned into her, his tongue curling out to graze the shell of her ear. “Needless to say, you cannot use your hands.”

She nodded, her breath coming in ragged pants. Alistair felt his cock harden—almost painfully so—as a wild, primal urge ran through him. She nosed along his hip, over the impressive bulge, before she took one of the leather laces between gentle teeth. With a long, languid pull, his breeches came free and his cock rather sprang forward to greet her. He felt her lips brush against it and he drew in a hiss, feeling it surge from the contact. Cullen hooked two fingers into her collar and pulled her back.

“Wait,” he commanded, his voice low in his throat. He tugged on her hair and raised his gaze to Alistair. “You ready?”

Alistair could only nod mutely as he pinched the base with two fingers, holding Emma’s chain out of the way. Cullen pushed her forward, and Alistair bumped against her lips with a hiss.

“Open, love,” Cullen sighed against her ear, and her mouth obediently popped open.

She started with a long, languid lick curling around the head, pressing her tongue as best she could against the thick, throbbing vein on the bottom. Alistair had to stifle a grown when she closed her lips around the head, only for Cullen to pull her off his cock with a soft, vulgar _pop._

“Maker’s breath,” Alistair gasped, trying to control the jerking in his hips.

Cullen’s amber eyes skimmed up Alistair’s body as he pushed Emma in a teasing rhythm of contact and no contact; there was a mischievous sparkle in them that Alistair found both completely arousing and terrifying.

“Wait here, angel,” he whispered in Emma’s ear. She gasped and leaned into him, only for him to still her and stand. Emma whined at the loss of contact, but Cullen seemed to have other ideas. He pushed past Alistair, brushing his hand against the other man’s hip, before passing the sofa. He gave Lynn a cursory glance, but none of the contact she so desperately needed. Alistair would have felt bad for her, but he knew better. He knew the anticipation was like catnip to Lynn; seeing and witnessing unbelievable pleasure but being unable to participate until she was _allowed_ to made her quiver with arousal. Frankly, Alistair had to admit a certain… thrill at the notion.

Cullen returned quickly, reaching around Emma and gripping Alistair’s length at the base. Alistair nearly jumped out of his skin and suppressed a hiss when the head brushed against Emma’s lips.  Cullen’s hands were so different from Lynn or Emma’s; callused in familiar ways, with strong fingers—like his own, but also not. He was wrapping something around the base, and it cinched suddenly _just_ this side of too tight. Alistair’s gasps jumped a few octaves, and when Cullen’s hands came away, a silk ribbon as black as the silk around Emma’s eyes was tied just at the jut of his cock. At first, he started to panic—the head was turning an angry shade of purple he didn’t recognize—but the sudden jolts of pleasure was incredible. The pressure of orgasm—but also different—began to tickle somewhere behind his belly button.

“If it gets to be painful, I’ll pull it,” Cullen reassured, running a long finger over his handiwork. “But until that time, it stays. And you come when I _let_ you come.”

Alistair shuddered, feeling his heart bruise against his ribs. He whimpered and swallowed and adjusted his hips but he was _painfully_ turgid and Emma’s breath ghosted over his hip and it was almost too much. He was learning a lot about his boundaries… mainly that he didn’t seem to have any.

“Ready?” Cullen asked, kneeling once again behind Emma.

Alistair could only give a strangled groan and nod vigorously; Cullen wound his hands through Emma’s hair and pressed her forward. This time, she opened without hesitation, and with a slow, smooth push, he was hilted in her warm mouth. Her nose was pressed right up against his dark ginger curls, and her throat tightened around the head of his prick. Cullen pulled her back slowly— _agonizingly_ so—and Emma skillfully curled her tongue along the base. Alistair let out a long, low sigh which transformed into a serrated moan when he pushed her forward once more.

“She can take it,” Cullen said, almost proudly. Emma moaned in approval, and given Alistair was currently buried in her mouth, he felt the vibrations all the way to his sac, and he just about came undone. Cullen reached forward, taking the hand that didn’t have Emma’s chain around it, and buried it in her hair. “Now give it to her.”

When Alistair hesitated, Emma started moving on her own. It was tentative at first, but wonderful. A little bob there, a little suction here, _just_ the right amount of teeth… He didn’t know what those choking noises she was making did for her, but they did wonderful things for him. Cullen gave him an insistent stare and quirked a thick, blonde brow. He was almost _daring_ him to go harder, to bring himself to the edge. To fuck her mouth.

And so he did.

Alistair gripped Emma’s hair, almost too tightly, and wrenched her forward. She groaned long and loud, the guttural sounds vibrating up his cock. He pounded into her mouth with a bruising pace; he felt her tongue desperately try and curl around him, but it seemed all she could do was take it. Alistair’s hips jerked unevenly when he felt like he _wanted_ to come, _could_ come, but couldn’t because of the _damned_ ribbon. His cock had never felt bigger or harder; the satin ribbon was starting to wet through, turning even darker as her tongue snuck out to brush against his sac.

Cullen adjusted Emma’s hips and sheathed himself in one brutal thrust, pushing Alistair even further down her throat. Her cries of pleasure were barely smothered by her ministrations. Alistair felt something in him—he felt like a wild thing, all tensed muscle and raw power and dominating force. At the same time, the strip of black around the base of him reminded him he was also submissive to Cullen’s whims. The dissonance caused a surge of pleasure to shoot through his limbs. He twisted Emma’s hair in his fingers, pulling sharply on the chain. He watched Cullen’s fingers work between Emma’s thighs while he pounded up into her cunt. The soft, wet sounds of her arousal as Cullen’s sac slapped against her pert ass awoke a primal desire to dominate in his soul.

The pressure in his belly didn’t disperse; the line of saliva dripping down Emma’s chin and her guttural moans, the smell of her arousal, and Lynn’s breathless gasps heaved through him. The whole room tilted, his whole body felt hot, and yet he couldn’t come. He knew it, and despite how excruciatingly hard he was. Emma’s moans were getting longer, higher pitched. Cullen’s movements were losing their rhythm. They were _both_ going to come; it wasn’t fair. Alistair sobbed in frustration and bliss; he shot a desperate whine at Cullen, allowing his eye contact to linger.

“Please,” he howled, never once stopping his brutal thrusts.

Cullen smirked and curled around Emma, pounding into her, shoving her onto Alistair’s cock. She came first, the trembling in her thighs the first indication; the second being the drops of her arousal making a soft _pat_ against the stone floor. Just as Cullen’s moans became falsetto and uncontrolled, he reached forward. With a blissfully short tug, the ribbon fell away from Alistair, and finally, the pressure exploded outward.

Alistair wasn’t sure where he was for a moment—stars exploded in his eyes, the whole room faded away for a brief moment. Blackness licked at the edges of his vision as he exploded down Emma’s throat. She swallowed his spend, moaning like it was the most delicious treat; the suction became too much and he pulled out of her with a harsh hiss and a soft _pop._ Cullen followed with a sharp gasp.

Cullen pulled at the knots digging into Emma’s pale flesh and pressed a kiss to her temple; “Good job, Emma.”

She smiled leaning into his soft touches before blindly indicating towards the sofa; “I feel like we neglected someone.”

“Care to rectify it, my dear?” Cullen asked, slipping her blindfold off.

“It would be my pleasure,” Emma rose smoothly, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She went from wilting flower, willing to respond to their _touches_ to a smooth, confident paragon of desire. She glided to Lynn’s side, running a soft pink tongue over her engorged nipples. Lynn jerked under Emma’s ministrations, the soft pink muscle twitching over the tumescent, angry points.

Lynn groaned, thrusting fruitlessly against the other woman, but Emma seemed content to take it slow. Long, soft fingers skimmed smoothly over splayed thighs, her pert nose brushing against the sensitive spot on Lynn’s neck. Emma slid effortlessly to the floor, spreading Lynn’s sopping cunt with tapered fingers.

“I love how you have her all spread for me,” Emma groaned, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of Lynn’s leg.

Alistair had no idea he could be hard again so soon, but seeing Emma expertly tease Lynn to frothing frenzy felt like fire in his veins, and it didn’t take long for his cock to jut out angrily once more. Cullen seemed to be in a similar state, his golden eyes blown completely black. He was gnawing on a knuckle, trying desperately to control his breathing, but he was visibly _painfully_ aroused.

Emma licked a long, slow, smooth line from Lynn’s opening to the tiny pearl at the top. Lynn’s hips lifted in time with the simple motion and let out a strangled cry. Emma tossed a coquettish look over her shoulder; “You boys should join us.”

Alistair didn’t have to be told twice. A beautiful woman had her face buried in his wife’s cunt and she was inviting him to join. He slid automatically behind Emma, steadying her hips and spreading her thighs. He could smell both her insistent arousal and Cullen’s distinctly masculine scent dripping out of her, coursing down her thighs, and he couldn’t help himself. He bent to lap it up, long and slow. The combination was heady and strong; he felt instantly giddy with excitement. Cullen settled onto the sofa, briefly lifting Lynn bodily onto his lap. Emma groaned while she watched Lynn’s cunt spread lewdly around the thick head; Cullen’s impressive cock disappeared into Lynn’s eager folds, and his groans spoke to the rippling pleasure Alistair could _see_ in the subtle twitches of his wife’s outer lips. Emma surged forward, no longer content with teasing, and latched onto Lynn’s pearl, sucking it between gentle lips.

Alistair grabbed Emma’s hips and unceremoniously sheathed himself in her. This would be no slow build to climax. Emma’s lips were sloppy and glistening; Cullen’s rhythm was staccato and unrelenting; Lynn’s chocolate eyes were rolled back in her head, her chestnut hair plastered with sweat. It was a writhing mess of bodies. Emma’s cunt was so tight and controlled; she practically rippled around him while he pounded into her. His balls slapped wetly against her, while the soft sucking sounds he made while he thrust into her wetness was a perfect soundtrack.

Lynn began the descent by crying out in her orgasm. Alistair reached forward and tugged on the chain connecting the nipple clamps. His wife’s eyes shot open and she fell against Cullen’s chest, writhing soundlessly. Her limbs trembled as she crested, her mouth thrown open in a silent cry of ecstasy. Emma moaned deeply and he felt her tighten on him like a vice, which triggered the white-hot explosion of his second orgasm in so many hours. Cullen slammed up into Lynn, dislodging Emma’s lips. Alistair could see the other man’s spend leak out around his cock, onto his lap, and down Lynn’s thighs. Oh _Maker_ but that was a sight. He felt the air go out of his lungs as he watched Emma lean forward and lick the other two clean. Alistair pulled out of her with a hiss, watching as he spilled down Emma’s thighs. It was such a vulgar sight, and knowing Cullen most likely contributed to that mess… Alistair bent to lick it off of her. He felt debauched and naughty; everything he was ever taught went against what they did here.

Yet, when he saw Cullen gently massaging Lynn’s sore shoulders, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulders and neck, and Emma’s bright blue eyes and brilliant smile silently asking for contact, he couldn’t bother to care. He pulled the blanket from the sofa and wrapped Emma in his strong arms, curling her against his chest. Alistair pressed his head against Cullen’s thigh and sighed in contentment when he felt the other man’s fingers in his hair, scratching gently along his scalp.

It seemed after their games, they would always end up in a heap of sweaty, languid, sleepy bodies. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas gift for felandaris. You're the best, babe! And now I can't stop writing these smutty one shots, so I blame you for that.


End file.
